


Home

by whatacartouchebag



Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen, but they still get a celebratory smooch at the end so we gucci, set a few years after series end, the Fair Game is only a background theme here tbh, time for some tooth rotting family mcfeels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25647814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatacartouchebag/pseuds/whatacartouchebag
Summary: Forgotten melodies do little but dredge up the worst of times.Perhaps it's time to start remembering the best, instead.(a simple family fic)
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> Rest my friend  
> Time can mend  
> Many things
> 
> ~ Home, Casey Lee Williams
> 
> ***
> 
> After hearing a gorgeous rendition of this song, it sparked one hell of a creative wave to write something down. And this was spawned in about four hours, give or take. Special shoutout to [Renabe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renabe/pseuds/Renabe) for giving me the supreme inspiration for this, [Amber](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amber_Aglio/pseuds/Amber_Aglio) for helping with the scene of the girls as wee tots, and CRWBY for making me endlessly mad that the cupboard handle is a _real thing_ in canon.

It had been a long time coming, and the breath sighs from him as he stirs awake. Or rather, slips back into that blurry sort of consciousness that always snatched at him. Sleep had long since been lost to him, and he'd lain in the darkened room, wishing only for a shred of relaxation, comfort, the lull of _something_ to quell the ache between his ears.

Qrow didn't often get migraines anymore. The usual dryness and cottony feeling of old nothing more than a long drawn memory to him. Yet every so often, he felt the telltale signs of tension behind his eyes, and he would rub the bridge of his nose in futility. Herbal teas would only help so far sometimes, and where luxury would allow, the complete and utter collapse into something soft and dark as he simply waited it out.

Waited for the ebb of his thrumming heartbeat in his skull, and the dam wall trickling from its cracks as the pressure finally let up.

Red eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, still feeling the lingering tug of it behind his forehead, but it was leagues away from what had sent him upstairs to simply forget about everything for a few hours.

Thankfully, it was a time of small luxuries, especially since Tai had kept the spare room ready at all times, and just the same after all these years. Even if he  _did_ already have his own home on the other side of town, and lips pulled vaguely in hollow amusement as a thumb found the edge of a ring.

After years of moving around, barely being a shadow within these very walls, playing both spy and huntsman and generally being a ghost, it was nice to know some things with Tai would never change. The thought brought the faint smile fully to his lips, and he closed his eyes. Well then, he mused, time to test the tenuous relationship with his head once more.

With no small amount of fatigue, he pushed himself upright once more, feeling vertigo snatch at him with the change of position. Fingers curled into the covers, and he stared down at the floor, waiting for it to pass.

Yet, blissfully, there was no throbbing save for the ever-present ring of his pulse in his ears, meaning the worst of it was over.

Small miracles  _did_ exist, he realised.

Still, it was with habit that he reached up, gingerly placing fingertips to his temple and brushing delicate circles into skin, rings on both sides catching the faint light from behind curtains. It  _was_ a day of wonders, he also noted, for the house almost sounded blessedly silent. Which was... not at  _all_ how it usually went for those four walls.

As soon as even one of his nieces were under this roof, it was a raucous free for all. And if they brought any manner of friends, team mates, extended family, or anything else with them, then it was  _guaranteed_ that they would be heard from the centre of Patch itself.

He smiled wearily to himself as he stood, hand falling to his stomach as he idly noted the hunger that had crawled into him.

Perhaps they'd all gone out for lunch, and the question brought him into the hallway, where red eyes glanced at the window at one end, pinching simply. It was...  _very_ dark outside.

Just how long had he collapsed for?

Gods, but he hadn't thought this one was all that  _bad_ ...

The sigh slipped from him. Alright, so maybe they were all out to  _dinner_ instead. Tai knew how he preferred to simply be left alone until he resurfaced; the blond had more practice with Qrow's habits than his nieces or husband ever would, and he knew those subtle cues and little tells.

There was a  _damn_ good reason he never played Tai in poker anymore.

The stray thought brought the brush of a laugh past his lips, and he headed towards the top of the stairs, intent on food and another calming cup of tea. He was more than halfway down when the gentle strains of humming caught his ears, and dark brows furrowed lightly.

Clearly he  _wasn't_ home alone, and it took him an almost embarrassing length of time to identify the voice. The rest of his senses were also still coming up for air, and he realised there was the most incredible smell coming from the kitchen.

From how it made his stomach growl, he earnestly wished it wasn't just a dinner for one being created down there.

He reached the landing at the bend in the stairs, and the flood of warm recognition traced through him at the simple melody, stilling his feet. Fingers curled at the front of his shirt, as memories stirred with it, red eyes widening faintly. It was... something he hadn't heard in this house for years.

Decades, even.

Not since...

The huntsman was moving before he could finish the thought, feet silently padding down the remainder of the stairs, wistful smile playing on his lips. An untamed splash of golden hair caught his eye as he lingered in the doorway, and he watched his eldest niece wandering between stations on the benchtop. A knife expertly sliced through the last of vegetables before she collected her quarry, adding it with a sharp sizzle to an already steaming pan.

She dealt with her ingredients with simple precision, all with that simple melody falling from behind her lips. Every so often, they would part, and stray words would catch Qrow's ears, causing his smile to hitch. A metallic finger swiped into the pan, bringing it to those lips to taste it, and satisfied, she happily continued humming.

He leant his arm up against the frame, languidly relaxing against the wood as he watched her work, red eyes taking in every flick of utensils, hearing every gentle syllable cross her tongue, and letting himself enjoy the way it wrought warmth into his chest.

It was a simple little moment he'd caught her in, and he almost didn't want to say anything to bring her out of the spell she'd drawn upon herself.

She seemed... content.

Something that was long and far between for all of them.

The huntsman found he didn't really care to ask why she was the only one home. If the others really  _had_ all gone into the town proper for dinner, perhaps she'd taken pity on the aching old man.

It was enough to bring the faint sound of amusement to him, and it was enough to draw a faint startle from the girl.

Yang whipped her head around, shoulders bunched in fright and spoon flung back at the ready to throw viciously at him. Qrow himself startled at the reaction and he jerked away from the door frame, one hand darting up in immediate surrender.

Those violet eyes held his for a heartbeat of time, before the sigh flooded from her, and she glared heatedly at him.

“Uncle Qrow, you scared the _life_ out of me!” she said, maybe still a tad too loud for his senses. She seemed to realise it as he reached up to run fingers through dark hair. “It's a damn miracle you didn't end up with this between your eyes,” she added, a little softer.

The faint roll of a laugh found him, and he appreciated her  _not_ adding to his still aching head. He drew back one of the chairs, almost slumping into it as he found the rush of adrenaline had spiked back into his skull again.

Oh well, he mused. Almost home free.

Yang ducked her eyes back to the pan, giving it a quick stir before glancing up at him once more. “How's your head doing?” she asked him gently. “Dad figured you might be out for the rest of the night and took the others into town to give you a break. Said he could tell from the way you looked that it was going to be a bad one.”

Qrow had to raise impressed brows at that, wry smirk crossing his expression. Tai really  _did_ have a knack for picking up his tells when it came to his headaches. He'd have to ask what tipped him off this time.

He reached up to run a hand across the back of his neck, rubbing deep at taut muscles for a moment. “Better... mostly,” he answered honestly. He brought his gaze back to hers, smile settling gently upon lips. “Thought you'd forgotten that song, you know.”

There was a delicate fluster of colour on the young woman's cheeks, and she turned back to the stove, stirring perhaps a little too quickly. Realising she'd been caught singing. Qrow could only allow his smile to widen; from  _that_ particular reaction, she most certainly hadn't forgotten it.

He was glad.

It was important to all of them in some way or another, really.

He'd... hate to see it lost to time.

“Don't think I could if I tried...” she murmured with a ghost of a laugh.

Her movements slowed, and she smiled almost wistfully at her steaming pan, lost in her own snatch of memories.

“Think I heard it nearly every day growing up. You know... until...”

Qrow watched her for a moment as she trailed off, directing his gaze to the darkened window and the world that lay beyond it, smile faltering on his lips. He knew why. They both did. Summer's passing took a lot of the light and laughter from within these walls, and it was just another unspoken chapter in their family's history.

Brows pinched lightly as he tried not to linger on it too long, and as he lowered his gaze towards the floor, he found his eyes caught on something else instead. He was caught for a moment, staring at the gods awful repair that stuck out like a sore thumb, and memories of a different time rushed over him.

The girls had been little. Tiny enough to hold in one arm each. Ruby still had trouble pronouncing her esses. Yang had  _long_ since graduated into the ball of trouble phase.

Together they were already unstoppable force of chaos.

He'd heard the shriek of the blonde's name from outside, and since it didn't immediately register as something pained, he'd almost automatically brushed it off. Fingers reached for his flask again; of  _course_ he'd remember that.

It was only when hushed voices returned to the kitchen, and that telltale hiccup in Ruby's voice began, that he caught something that almost made him laugh aloud.

“Don't worry, I know where dad keeps his tools!”

She'd said it with such enthusiasm, he didn't even  _want_ to get involved with it. He sorely wanted to see the end results though. He remembered lingering over his scroll, a message to Tai in his hands, all cheek and amusement when he'd seen what they'd done, and when his brother finally saw the mismatched cupboard handle, he'd laughed just as loud as Qrow wanted to.

Neither of them could be mad at them. If anything, Tai was thoroughly impressed that his girls had showed they could take responsibility for their actions. And it was still as straight as the rest of them.

Just a little... vertically keen.

It soon became one hell of a joke in the family, and Tai didn't have the heart to fix it. Not when Yang had done such a good job with it.

“Qrow, she even knew not to use the countersink screws! That's incredible!” he'd gushed at the time. The huntsman could only shake his head at him and his boundless enthusiasm. Those two could build a lop-sided snowman on the beach and he'd _still_ rave about it for years on end.

The fond memory couldn't help but bring the soft hum of amusement to the surface, and he glanced up at Yang as she scooped the contents of her pan into waiting bowls. He noted with his  _own_ keen enthusiasm that he was getting fed, and he sat back in his seat, politely waiting.

And downright glad that it wasn't a dinner for one that she'd created.

“Ruby still knows it,” he commented simply as cutlery was collected from a drawer. Violet eyes darted up to him in mild surprise, and she turned away a moment later, hip bumping the drawer shut as she snorted.

“She does not...” came the disbelieving huff. Steaming bowls were slid onto the table, and she ceremoniously speared the centre of his with his fork. He laughed warmly at her as she slid into her own seat, withdrawing it with all the formality of a sword emerging from the stone.

He pointed at her lightly with his cutlery. “She does too,” he countered swiftly, one hand gathering about the bowl as he stirred through it. He saw Yang putting mushrooms in here, he swears... “Heard her singing it in Mistral. Course, that coulda been some sort of fever dream I was having, considering I was nearly dying at the time.”

Yang's laughter was bright and rich, and she poked through her own bowl.

“Later, though? Now later, I _know_ I heard it. Thanks for this by the way,” he began, smile easy on his face as he stuffed the first forkful into his mouth. It was downright heavenly. Gods, but she was getting better at this. “Mainly because it was me doing the humming, and _she_ finished it for me.” He raised red eyes pointedly at the young woman.

Yang was caught by the words for a moment, before the wry smile found her. “No way, I still don't believe you. She was  _way_ too young to remember it.”

Qrow shrugged at her, still chewing his mouthful before he sat back suddenly, bringing his attention fully to the blonde and gesturing lightly at her with his fork. He swallowed the last of his mouthful and slung an arm over the back of a chair.

“Bet you anything she does,” came the simple challenge.

The young woman narrowed her eyes at him, but the smirk was firmly on her lips.

“Alright. Thirty lien says you're bullshitting me,” she countered easily. Qrow snorted dismissively at her, turning his gaze absently to the side.

“What, you been skipping on huntress jobs or something?” he grinned back at her. “Or are you afraid to make a _real_ bet?”

Yang almost baulked at the tone, because she knew he could be cocky at best when the odds were stacked against him. Seeing him with self-assured odds was something else entirely, and she  _knew_ his memory for details were second to none.

If he said something was true, there was a damn good chance it really was.

It was just a pity she was raised to fight against terrible odds.

“Three hundred,” she told him, sharp and succinct, offering him a hand across the table. The grin was ripe on her own expression. “You're gonna regret that fever dream of yours, old man.”

Qrow could do little else but laugh softly at her, slapping his palm into hers and shaking it firmly.

“And you just made a bad life choice, firecracker,” he smirked back at her with a wink.

***

The night wound on between the two of them, and Qrow had all but forgotten about the tender feeling within his head. It was a simple remedy of time and hot tea, simple company and gentle laughter.

It was just a pity he still couldn't handle looking at the bright lights of a screen for too long, otherwise he would have adored thoroughly trashing his niece in a fighting game.

The next day was another thing entirely, and he knew she was getting rusty.

They'd almost forgotten about their little bet as they sat together on the porch, glancing across darkened treetops and up to the wash of stars that painted the velvet sky, easy snatches of conversation falling between them. Qrow was nursing another cup of herbal tea, and red eyes closed as he breathed in the earthy aroma for a moment, lost to it as he was.

He was downright thankful to be rid of the lingering ache in his head; food and simple remedies doing him an utter wonder.

At the first glint of approaching sound, he knew his easier night was drawing to a close, and he smiled to himself as he took a generous swig from his cup. Still, he was downright thankful that Tai had taken the initiative to separate most of the noise from the house, if only for a few hours.

His brother knew him well, after all.

The was a bright call from Ruby as she spotted them, and took off at a sprint towards them, leaving the other two in her wake. Thankfully she'd curbed her reaction to explode towards someone with her semblance, but the young woman at full tilt was still a terrifying sight.

Qrow didn't think his bones could handle another tackle in his lifetime.

The plucky huntress thudded boots along the porch as she came to a halt before them, already excitedly babbling about everything that had happened in town, where they went, what they ate, Clover scoring them free dessert, the movie that they saw, dad running into some old friends, the way the town had just  _grown_ so much in the last few years, the way-

The huntsman had to hold up a hand to snare her attention once more, and with a delicate motion that suggested she lower her volume, she gave a faint squeak, hands flying to her mouth in realisation.

“Oh, Uncle Qrow, I'm so sorry!” she told him softly, generously quieter than she had been a moment before. “Is it still bad?”

He shook his head lightly, smiling warmly up at her. “Not entirely, but I'm still a little tender around the edges,” he told her simply. He watched her sigh with relief, and she hopped up onto the railing, sitting there easily as the other two men made their casual approach, chatting amongst themselves.

Qrow could only smile at them, warmth settling in his chest before he glanced up at his niece once more. Oh, but he couldn't help himself sometimes.

“Found a really good remedy this time around,” he began easily, reclining a little further into cushions and setting his cup to the side. Silver eyes blinked lightly, and she perked at this. Ruby knew her uncle's headaches were sometimes horrendous, and to hear he'd found something to help ease his trouble with them was encouraging.

“Oh? Was it the stretches?” she offered lightly.

He laughed gently at her, smile hitching at the corners. “No, it wasn't the stretches...” he breathed, glancing briefly at Yang before returning to silver eyes. “I got sweetly serenaded by your sister here. You know... that old lullaby your dad and I used to sing you?”

Yang's fingers tightened about her own cup, and she turned softly widened eyes from her uncle, to the young woman, breath caught in her chest as she waited out her reaction.

Damn Qrow for being as slippery as an eel...

Ruby's face brightened in a heart beat at those words.

Yang's heart  _sank_ .

“No way, that _really worked?_ ” she sang out loudly, and the huntsman tried not to wince at her volume again.

“Ruby... do you... remember the words?” the blonde prodded almost gingerly, feeling her wallet lightening with every syllable. The young woman snorted at her, waving her off.

“Well of _course_ I do,” she replied instantly. “All that talk of being there for someone, being calm, staying strong. And most importantly, knowing what home feels like.”

Qrow felt the faintest quirk of his lips break through his armour, and he threaded his fingers together as they settled on his stomach. Yang could only stare back at her sister in horror before the heavy sigh groaned from her. She dug impatiently in a pocket for her scroll and tapped angrily at it for a few seconds, slapping the device onto the table next to her.

The huntsman felt his vibrate lightly in his own pocket and the first snuffle of laughter broke free as the funds landed in his account.

Yang swore loudly, drawing the startle of confusion from her sister, and the automatic bark of her name from her father as they reached the porch. At his side, Clover could only glance between whatever situation they'd stumbled upon, brows raised somewhere between surprise and amusement. He'd heard less colourful words when he was still in Atlas, and that was saying something. It still didn't help his curiosity, and he walked to his mirthful husband.

He stooped towards him, hand finding the crook of an elbow as Qrow met him for a simple kiss. “Do I want to know?” he murmured against lips.

There was a smirk of a reply against his mouth before he drew back. Clover settled onto the arm of the outdoor couch, fingers tracing across shoulders that were blessedly and finally free of tension, idle circles finding the seams of his shirt.

“Yeah, Uncle Qrow's a cheater,” Yang sulked from next to him. Qrow snorted, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“ _How_ is having a better memory than you _cheating?_ ” he countered swiftly. The blonde raised her glare to him, thoroughly sour at her crushing defeat. The huntsman was _glad_ he still couldn't verse her in a video game; this was _far_ more of an entertaining display.

“It just is!”

“Volume, please.”

Clover's fingers stilled, and he glanced down at him in mild concern. “Your head's still not better?”

Qrow almost couldn't contain himself, and the laughter burst from him, bright and free. Red eyes glanced up at his husband with a broad smile, and he snaked an arm about his waist, nudging closer to his side.

“On the contrary, I feel fantastic,” he answered with a grin. That cheeky gaze fell onto his pouting niece once more, and she could only sigh at him, rolling her own eyes as he gloated in victory. “Someone here just paid for our next date night.”

She could only snort at him in thinly veiled amusement, and she swatted at him when he reached out to prod at her.

“ _And_ she needs to relearn some lyrics for next time,” he added.

“I did _not_ forget-” her brain ground to a halt as she realised the meaning of his words. “Wait, how _long_ were you standing there?”

He could only laugh warmly at her, that bright sound no longer holding that gloating tone from before, and his expression softened. The memories lingered in his eyes, but he knew they were so different to the ones he once held thanks to those words.

Where once a song could only wring sadness and tragedy to his heart, he now knew that time could indeed mend many things. Better memories could always be made, and they would sit alongside others that were already so precious to him, warm in his heart.

He met those violet eyes with an utterly fond smile.

“Long enough to know I'd found it, firecracker.”


End file.
